


Is that Snot in My Coffee?!

by BlackCanary0001



Series: Batman one shots [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Batbrothers get along, Damian Wayne Angst, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Damian Wayne-centric, Damian is precious and needs to be protected, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Protective Dick Grayson, Protective Jason Todd, Protective Tim Drake, Sibling Bonding, Sick Character, Sick Damian Wayne, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:41:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26677618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackCanary0001/pseuds/BlackCanary0001
Summary: Dami is sick and not used to taking care of himself. His siblings on the other hand know exactly what to do.
Relationships: Damian Wayne & Everyone, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Damian Wayne
Series: Batman one shots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1905481
Comments: 6
Kudos: 220





	Is that Snot in My Coffee?!

Damian was fine. He was great, actually. If there was a scratching in his throat, it was because he hadn't been drinking enough. If he was cold, it was because of the weather, even though the other of his father's sidekicks were running around in short-sleeved shirts. But he was fine. He could still function. He was still able to go out on patrol that night. He felt just fine. No complaints, really. 

With a scowl, he shook off the urge to cough. He was _fine_ , damn it. 

"Dami?" Putting on his best I-am-totally-fine face, he turned to raise a question eyebrow at Grayson. The older man was scrutinizing him critically, eyebrows furrowed in worry. "Are you okay?"   
Huffing, Damian turned back to the TV show he had (not) been watching, maybe or maybe not pulling the comforter closer to himself. "Of course." His voice didn't sound raspy, it _didn't. (It couldn't)._

(His mother didn't like it when it did.)

Ignoring the black haired male, he focused on the show... _desperate housewives?!_ When did that come on? Scowling, he reached for the remote, tutting in annoyance as he realized he'd have to get up to get it. The comforter was so _warm_. 

He looked up when Grayson reached over him to hand him the remote. "Tt." He would have been very much able to do that himself. He didn't have time to react when Grayson put a hand on his forehead (which was _not_ because of delayed reaction time, Grayson just had the advantage of standing above him. Damian was _fine)_. 

He quickly slapped the offending hand away, scowl deepening. Grayson's eyes darkened in concern and Damian was _not_ avoiding those blue orbs. He was just... just...

"You have a fever." It was not a question, and still Damian felt inclined to deny it. "I'm fine."  
His voice was steely and he pushed away the comforter to prove his point. _(Why was it so damn cold anyway?)_

"Don't tell me the kid's gotten sick."   
His head snapped around. Todd and Drake were watching them closely, both having the same look of determination in their eyes. Damian didn't like it. Those two never got along, not unless they had someone else to torment than each other. 

"I'm _fine_. I don't get _sick_."  
Drake snort and moved closer, ignoring Damian's warning growl as he too felt his temperature. "Yeah, sure, Demon Brat. You're running a fever."  
Damian's eyes flittered to the other two males and back to Drake. He pushed himself off the couch (his legs were not numb) and clenched his fists at his sides. "So what? I am still capable of taking you down," he hissed (defensively). He was not sick. Only those who were weak let themselves be hindered by their body's demands. And he was not. He wasn't allowed to be. 

"Geez, Demon, were you planning on going out like that? You're shaking."   
"I'm not."   
Drake only rolled his eyes, pushing him back down. "Yeah, right."   
Damian attempted to get up once again, but Grayson was holding his shoulders down gently, giving him a stern frown. "You're sick. And you are not going on patrol like that." 

Damian shrugged off his brothers' hands, glaring at both of them. "I'm _fine_ ," he insisted. The scratching in his throat got worse. He swallowed.

What was happening to him? It's not like he had never caught a cold before, but the League of Assassins did not care for simple colds. Those were ignored and pushed through. Why were Drake and Grayson so damn clingy? And where had Todd gone to? That he hadn't heard him leave was not concerning. It wasn't.

For some reason this was all too much. He could handle fighting just fine, kept a cool head in hostage situations and sassed psychotic giant man-crocodiles, but this... He didn't like Grayson and Drake fussing over him like that. It was confining, alien. He had never been _fussed over_ before. 

He was startled out of his thoughts by a streaming mug being shoved in his face. "Wha-"  
Todd was standing in front of him, holding the cup without meeting his eyes.   
"Chamomile tee. Helps with aching throats." He turned his head and shoved the mug further into Damian's directing. The younger boy couldn't help gaping at him. Todd was obviously embarrassed, trying to conceal that he was... trying to help Damian? _(Care for him?)_

No way. Had hell frozen over without them noticing? He'd have to ask Rachel about that later.

Glancing at the tea, he slowly accepted the drink, keeping his eyes on the mug. Was he supposed to thank Todd now? 

It's not that Damian was purposefully trying to be bratty, but he genuinely didn't know how to act when others... worried about him. It was a foreign concept. But it felt _nice_. Warm, soft, comforting, safe. He suppressed a smile. 

(What was happening?)

"...thank you."   
Todd glanced at him in surprise but didn't comment on it (which Damian was grateful for).  
Sipping the hot drink slowly (it really did make his throat feel better), he glanced at his siblings. Was he supposed to say something else? 

"Dami?"   
He raised his head. Grayson sat down at the end of the couch, smiling gently. "I think we can cover for tonight. Why don't you head to your room and call it an early night?"   
"But-"  
Drake scoffed, cutting him off. "Please, the Demon would never skip patrol, he's too stuck up to do it."  
Todd nodded his head, grinning sharply at Damian. "Yeah, he's too chicken." 

Narrowing his eyes, Damian took another sip of the tea. "I am very much able to take a day off."  
Todd just continued to smirk and Damian felt the well-known feeling of competing behaviour rise up inside of him. "I am!" 

(He was aware of what his brothers were trying to do, but... maybe he could afford _one_ night without patrol.)

"Fine," he finally forced out, challenging glint in his eyes. "Only this once."  
Ignoring the thumbs up Grayson gave the two imbeciles of human being behind his back, Damian crossed his arms and trudged up the stairs to his room. 

(So maybe he wasn't fine, but for the first time in forever, he didn't feel like that was a bad thing. Maybe getting handed warm drinks and being able to cuddle with a warm and heavy blanket was not such a bad experience. Sure, the ache in his throat was still there, he still felt like sneezing and his limbs were heavy, but... 

A small smile formed on his face. Having people care for him and worry about his well-being felt better than pretending to be fine to fit into his mother's picture of the perfect son.)

That night, when Dick, Jason and Tim peaked into their youngest brother's room after patrol, they saw him sleep with a content smile on his face.


End file.
